Hell On Earth (And A Bit of Heaven)
by SpyKid18
Summary: He'd gone through hell on that island, but it didn't even come close to the hell that was watching another man touch her. Oliver x Felicity


**A/N: So, the idea for this randomly came to me and I had to write it! I'm imagining this set sometime in S2. I haven't watched all of that season yet, so please excuse any mistakes. I hope you enjoy this!**

Hell on Earth (And A Bit of Heaven)

It was another one of the tedious society galas. It was for orphans or some incurable disease. Oliver didn't know which. There were so many of them, he couldn't keep track anymore. They were all the same, anyway. Men in suits and women in dresses that cost more than an entry-level SUV glided around the room, drinking from champagne flutes and graciously accepting salmon puffs from glorified servants while they pretended to give a damn about whatever cause was up for discussion that week.

He hated these things, but it was all part of the job. It was part of the charade he put on to keep his other life safe, so he put up with it. Anyway, what was one night a month? In the scheme of things, it was nothing. A monthly payoff to keep his deepest secret was hardly an expense for which he could complain.

He stood by the bar, scanning the crowd. It was what he supposed everyone else would consider a natural pose for the vapid, womanizing Oliver Queen. Before the island happened, the bar was a typical place to find him. And that was who he had to convince everyone he was again. The pre-island Oliver. The one who was reckless, carefree, and definitely not in love with a bespectacled IT girl.

She was talking with a group of businessmen, looking completely in her element as she probably prattled on about some new software update. He remembered how nervous she'd been when he first started asking her to go to these things – on behalf of Queen Consolidated, of course – but then she found the fool proof topic of conversation for business men over the age of forty: technology.

She said something and the men laughed uproariously. She sipped her champagne contently, catching his gaze over the rim of the flute. Smirking, she titled her head to the side once, gesturing for him to go and mingle. One of the men said something to her and she pulled her gaze away from him, face turning serious as she listened to whatever he was saying.

"I see you're keeping the bar company," John Diggle said, settling beside Oliver at the bar.

Oliver grinned, glancing toward his friend. "It looked lonely."

"Oh, of course. So, this spot wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that it gives you the perfect view of Felicity?"

"I resent the insinuation," Oliver returned easily. "Can't a man take residence at the bar without being questioned?"

Diggle laughed. "Fair enough. So, what is this thing for again?"

"No idea," Oliver said, turning so his side was pressed against the bar. "I think it might be for one of the cancers."

Diggle smirked. "One of the cancers?"

"Yeah, that did sound pretty bad," Oliver admitted, breaking off into a bark of laughter. "But it's the third one this month. I've given up trying to keep track."

Oliver gestured for the bartender and ordered another drink.

"Scotch, single malt, please," he said.

The bartender mixed him the drink and handed it over. Oliver took it, turning to rest his back against the bar. Diggle had been suspiciously quiet, and he wondered what was happening. When he followed his friend's gaze he understood the silence. Felicity was dancing with one of the businessmen from before. His hand was low on her back, and he was whispering something in her ear. Oliver could tell she was tense from the set of her shoulders.

Diggle glanced down at Oliver's clenched fists and told him, "Easy Oliver."

"Tell me not to go over there," Oliver said, taking a sip of his drink. His grip was tight, knuckles white.

"Don't go over there. She's not yours here, Oliver."

Diggle was right. It had been Oliver's choice to keep whatever was happening between them a secret. Any other choice was too dangerous. He had enemies, and if they ever discovered his true identity, they would use the ones he cared about against him. He wouldn't put Felicity in that position, not if he didn't have to.

The businessman's hand dipped low on Felicity's back and Oliver set his drink on the bar.

"Alright, I'm going over there."

Diggle didn't try to argue with him. Oliver strode over, fingering the top button of his suit jacket as he tried to calm himself down. Flying off the handle wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Excuse me, I need to borrow Felicity for a moment," Oliver said smoothly, laying his hand on Felicity's shoulder.

"Is everything okay?" she asked with concern.

"Just some IT issues over at the office," Oliver filled in. He considered making something up there on the spot, but he couldn't think of something quickly enough. Thankfully, Felicity considered even vague IT issues to be of the utmost importance, and she quickly disentangled herself from the businessman, murmuring an apology as she went off with Oliver. Immediately she began firing off questions. What happened? Was there a breach? Had something crashed? Did he think it was serious, and why did bad things always have to happen when they were in formalwear?

Oliver remained quiet, guiding her through the crowd. They exited the banquet hall and he glanced around momentarily before spotting a utility closet. He tried the doorknob and it was open. With one more cursory glance he opened the door and slipped inside, pulling Felicity with him.

"We're in a utility closet," Felicity murmured. "Why are we in a utility closet? Is what happened that bad? Oh my God, it's not an IT problem, is it? Someone's dead. Someone's dead, and you brought me in a _utility closet _to tell me?"

"No one's dead," he told her softly, framing her face with his hands. She gently grasped his wrists, looking up at him.

"Then why are we in a utility closet?"

He grinned a bit, eyes dancing, and murmured, "Why do you think?"

His mouth was against hers and she stumbled backwards, back hitting the door. Her fingers threaded through his hair, bringing his mouth down harder against hers. He slid his tongue along her bottom lip and she opened her mouth for him, moaning softly when their tongues met.

She never used to kiss like this. There had been a number of guys before Oliver, and she'd definitely made out with the majority of them, but never like this. Kissing Oliver felt like running at full speed. It was adrenaline and fear and need all wrapped together in one perfect kiss that made her knees feel like they were made out of jello.

He dragged his mouth to her neck, kissing and biting as his hands explored. They brushed the undersides of her breasts, and then moved up slightly to pinch her through her dress. She leaned her head back against the door, trying to catch her breath. Getting to second base in a utility closet was definitely something new, even for her and Oliver.

His hands travelled lower and he pushed her dress up, slipping his hand between her legs. Despite the fever burning there, she quickly grasped his wrist and said, "I don't want to get my dress all messed up."

"I'll buy you a new one," he said, grinning up at her. His fingers inched forward and her eyes squeezes shut as he brushed her underwear.

"What am I supposed to do for the rest of the benefit?"

"We have an IT emergency, remember?" he said with another grin. She could tell he felt pretty good about the whole scheme he'd concocted, and on any other day she would have been right there with him. But she'd spent a lot of money on this dress, and she'd even gone ahead and personally given a check to the foundation, because it was for the Forgotten Children Fund, and who could _not _give money to that? This was not a time for getting frisky in a utility closet.

"Oliver," she said in the most level voice she could muster with his hand still between her legs. "I'm not going to let you defile me in this closet. Not that I wouldn't like it. I mean, I _would _like it. A lot. And I'm probably going to regret this later, but there are a bunch of people out there trying to raise money for kids without families, and this just feels…"

Oliver sighed, leaning forward and resting his forehead against hers. After a moment he stepped back, hands to himself, and said, "Alright, I'll stop."

He kissed her lightly. It was a sweet kiss, not their usual searing ones, and it made her want to throw her arms around his neck and never leave the utility closet. But she'd made a stand, and she would stick with it. He held up one finger for her to wait while he opened the door and peeked out. Meanwhile, she patted her hair and checked that her dress was in place.

"We're all clear," he said.

They walked out into the empty hallway and headed back to the banquet hall. He thought of what she had said a few moments earlier and said, "Wait, so, what charity is this benefit for again?"

She gaped at him. "The Forgotten Children Fund. Are you telling me you had no idea what tonight was for?"

"I'm not really good at keeping all these charities straight," Oliver tried. He glanced over at her and couldn't help but grin at the borderline perplexed and exasperated look on her face. His eyes lingered, taking in her curled hair and deep blue dress.

"By the way, you look beautiful tonight," he murmured.

"If you think complimenting me will make me forget that you literally had no idea what you were here for tonight, you're wrong," she said.

He laughed at her stubbornness, and she added, "But, thank you. You don't look too shabby yourself." Her eyes travelled down the lines of his tuxedo, and she said, "You should always wear a tuxedo. Not that you don't look good in other things. Because you do. Look good in other things. Or in no things." She swallowed hard, glancing to the side. "And I'm going to stop talking now."

He chuckled warmly, lightly pressing a hand on her back as he led her past the dance floor. The usual big band music was playing, and all across the dance floor people swayed to the beat. He saw Diggle and Thea over at one corner, his sister laughing at something his friend said.

"Felicity," Oliver said, stopping and turning toward her. She hadn't noticed him stop, her attention on the dancers, and she nearly collided with him. He laughed, hands lightly resting on her waist.

"What's up?" she said in an unnaturally high voice.

"Would you care to dance?"

She hesitated for a moment before nodding, and he slid his arm around her waist. They moved to the music, both avoiding each other's gaze because they knew once they looked they wouldn't be able to look away.

He wanted to pull her close, feel her heart beat against his chest, but they were in public. It hadn't even been that long since they had been doing that in private – four, five weeks tops – but he's already become like an addict. Every moment with her seemed to be charged with something he couldn't quite explain. The only thing he knew is it made him want her more than he wanted anything before. Need her more than he needed anything before.

One song slid into another, and Oliver couldn't even remotely tell how much time passed, but Felicity did. She turned her face in toward his neck briefly before pulling away slightly.

"You should go deign some other girls with your dancing presence," she told him, glancing up through her square frames. The way her hand grasped his showed her reluctance.

"I should, huh?"

She pulled away from him, consciously putting space between them. Diggle walked over, laying his hand on Felicity's arm.

"Any chance you saved a dance for me?" he asked, nodding at Oliver's grateful look over her shoulder. The underlying message of that look was clear. At least if she had to be dancing with someone else that night, it would be someone he trusted.

"It just so happens that I did," Felicity said with a small grin, taking Diggle's hand. "Lead the way."

They headed off to another part of the dance floor and Oliver forced himself to look away. He took a moment to himself and then turned on his heel to find another dance partner, the old Oliver Queen returning for the duration of the benefit.

* * *

That night, Oliver stayed over at Felicity's apartment, like he had most other nights over the past few weeks. The sight of his large frame sprawled out on her pink sheets still made her grin. She wondered if that would ever stop, and secretly hoped it wouldn't.

She took her time getting ready for bed, enjoying the feeling of him watching her from the bed. She opened up her drawer and pulled out one of her oversized sleeping shirts. When he first started sleeping over she tried to wear her nicer matching pajama sets, but as she realized that she never ended up wearing any pajamas for long, she'd given up trying to look sleep-chic.

After brushing her teeth, she climbed into bed beside him, snuggling up against him as he put his arm around her. There wasn't much room for both of them in the bed, but she liked it that way. It forced them to be closer, lest one of them tumble off the bed.

They laid back to front, with his hand resting lightly on her stomach. Their legs were tangled together and she could feel his breath on her neck.

"Tonight was nice," she said, covering his hand with her own. She could feel the heat of his palm through her shirt.

"Yeah, it was," he said, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. "But I like this part even better."

She laughed, turning her head to look at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. Because here I get to touch you," he murmured, pressing his hand firmer against her stomach. "I get to kiss you." He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. "I get to _be _with you. I can't do that there."

"You know, you could do all of that in public. I wouldn't complain."

He chuckled, pressing his lips to her shoulder again. "Yeah, I know you wouldn't. But…" he trailed off, face turning serious. "You know why we can't do that."

"I do," she returned softly. "But it's okay."

She thought of everything they had gone through, and all the times she had believed that something like this could never happen. History spoke volumes for just how unlikely this moment was, yet, somehow here they were. They'd come together, and then neither of them could imagine anything different. She turned toward him and shifted so that her cheek rested on his chest.

"This is enough," she murmured, wrapping her arm around him. "Being here with you is enough."

"You know I would tell people if I could, right?" he asked, fingers absentmindedly kneading into her side.

"I know," she said. She wondered then just what there would be to tell. They'd never exactly put a label on what they were, or what had been happening over the past few weeks. In the end, she really didn't care. She knew how much Oliver cared about her, and how much she cared about him. That had been apparent long before anything real had happened. Still, she wondered what that big reveal would look like.

"What would you tell people?" she asked in a casual voice, although she felt her stomach twist. Oliver was silent, and she immediately regretted saying anything. Labels didn't matter to her, so why did she have to ask?

"Not that there is something big to tell," she stammered. "I mean there's some _thing _to tell, but not some big thing. What we're doing – you know, whatever this is – us…" she trailed off, her cheeks burning. "Can I take back my question?"

Oliver chuckled lightly and his chest rumbled beneath her cheek. "You know what I would tell them?"

"No, what?" she asked, turning her head up so she could see his face. The tenderness in his eyes took her by surprise.

"I would tell them that I am in love with the most amazing, smart, and caring woman. I would tell them that when I'm with her, I feel like I'm a little closer to being the man I want to be. And I would tell them that there is no one in the entire world that I would rather be holed up with in a twin size bed."

She laughed at that last part, her eyes already brimming with tears. "Sorry about the bed."

"I like it. I think the pink sheets really bring out my eyes."

She felt so happy then that she thought she'd burst. Reaching up, she tenderly touched his face and brought her lips up against his. His mouth moved comfortably against hers, the kiss familiar and unrushed. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she yelped as he brought her on top of him. She kissed his chest lightly and murmured, "There's no one I'd rather be holed up with in a twin size bed, either."

He grinned softly. "That's good to hear."

"And, Oliver?" she said, resting her chin on his chest.

He gently brushed her hair away from her face. "Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

**A/N: Spread the Olicity love with some comment! Yay!**

**Also - if you liked this, check out my AU Arrow story "My Little Corner of the World". Felicity fixes a handsome stranger's computer at a coffee shop (three guesses as to who it is!) and that chance meeting leads to more than she could have ever guessed.**


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